I’d like to share something with you about her –
She likes simplicity. That big wooden table would definitely have drawn her into the cafe – you depict her accurately. And although the openness of the room, its expansiveness obscures her from others who are pre-occupied with their cups of coffee and banter with friends – she hides further. It’s the oversized glasses perched on the bridge of her nose hiding her big brown eyes. It’s also her sheyla – she doesn’t have a definitive look, she lets the folds of the material settle wherever they wish and secures it with a stick pin – she cares very little for trends, she prefers comfort. Her headscarf falls over her shoulders, she fiddles with the tassels as she contemplates over the fine grooves in the surface of the table. She slowly runs her fingers over the ridges and indentations – she reads it as if it were braille – deciphering a language only she understands.

You notice some pages have darker coffee rings than others – she lingered on those pages longer, those precise words carried a greater depth. You look closer still and notice scribbles and folded corners – you want to know why. You long to read the notebook she holds dear. You especially want to read the words she scribbled out, she never erased them completely, nor tore out those pages.